


Spring Moods

by LaDonnaErrante



Series: Seasonal Humors in the Vinkus [2]
Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDonnaErrante/pseuds/LaDonnaErrante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To be sure, Sarima would be in her winter doldrums (as distinct from her spring moods, her summer ennui, and her congenital autumn condition)." Wicked 200-201</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring Moods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/gifts).



A breeze rustled through the tall grasses of the Vinkus. One ran through the fields, pushing through the sea of yellow and green stalks, each stride accompanied by the sting of grass hitting her bare legs as she carried a jerry can to the stream. Her family was camped with the Yunamata, selling salt and buying pelts to bring back to the Thursk. For the first time, she was helping her mother during the negotiations, putting into practice the trade that for years she’d only been able to watch. When she wasn’t keeping inventory or sorting through the goods received in barter, she was watching her sisters. She didn't mind playing with Six, who was really just a baby, but Three and Four would squabble, and Two always bossed them about but never helped.

Fetching water was the only chore of the day where she could be on her own and she cherished the run to the stream and back. Walking along the stream, she took in the sweet scent of blooming bushes that grew along the water's edge and made her way to a place where the bank wasn't so steep. She set the jerrycan down, pulled up her skirts and waded in, wiggling her toes in the cold water.

Laughter rang out behind her; she startled and whipped her head around to see her friend Dimah, tall and brown in the dull green clothes of the Yunamata, carrying a large waterskin. The girl gave her a big toothy grin and splashed into the river next to her.

"You got away."

"Not for long. If I'm not back in an hour, my mother will have a fit."

Dimah rolled her eyes. "Your mother is always having fits."

Sarima splashed her lightly and put on a serious affect. "Well, if you weren't a wild thing of the plains, you might understand." She burst into laughter.

"C'mon," Dimah said, "I'll race you to the cottonwood."

"You're on."

The two girls ran, the soft earth squishing between their toes until out of breath they collapsed under the shade of an ancient tree. Panting and laughing, Sarima gasped out "I beat you" and grinned.

"Did not!" Dimah playfully pinned her to the ground. Her big brown eyes were full of mirth and her breath was hot on Sarima's neck. Sarima's breath hitched, and then Dimah's lips were on hers and they were kissing. It was a strange feeling, wet and soft, Sarima wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Suddenly Dimah sat up, leaving a chill where her warm body had been before. They looked at each other shyly.

"Let's go. Our mothers will be wondering where we are."

They ran back to the jerry can and water skin, as they filled them. Carefully they walked side by side back to the camp, Sarima balancing the jerry can on a shoulder. Sarima couldn't help glancing at Dimah every now and then, wondering if she too was feeling an overwhelming lightness bubble up in her. The pressure in her chest was so great she thought her heart might burst. Overhead sky had darkened to the faded blue of twilight and the fragrant scent of meat and smoke wafted towards them from the cooking fires.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Image Credit:   
> Painting by Linda Lee Kinman   
> http://www.jones-terwilliger-galleries.com/images/lee/SpringInTheDesert2436.JPG


End file.
